The Return of the Dark Witch

P.O.V – Becky Sinclair

I was barely there, barely conscious. I couldn’t even feel my fingertips. I just stared blankly at Dumbledore as he walked closer to me. A concerned look on his face. He was a kind man, I could tell. I’d also seen him before, but the memory was hidden. Hidden away far back in my mind, I could tell it was there, but I couldn’t reach it. Couldn’t touch it. Everything just felt so surreal.

“Maria?” Asked Dumbledore gently, reaching out towards me as if to steady me.

I pulled away, backing myself against the desk. I could feel tears streaming down my face, but even that seemed so far removed from me. I shook my head rapidly at him, “No, I’m not her.” I choked out, “I don’t know who I am. But I’m not her, I can’t be her.”

Dumbledore tilted his head, “Why?” He asked softly, probingly.

“Because,” I gasped through the tears, “I can’t. I just can’t. I’m too young, and she…” I felt a tugging inside me, it was powerful, and I paused. Falling to the ground and placing my head in my hands. A moment passed, before I felt a comforting hand on my shoulder.

“A great injustice has been done to you, my dear child.” Said Dumbledore gently.

I lifted my head up, to stare into his pitying eyes, “Why? What did I do?” I asked, my voice cracking.

Dumbledore sighed, releasing my shoulder, and walking away from me to sit at his desk, “Do you remember what you are?” He asked.

I stood up, my body shaking, as I nodded my head. I leaned against the desk for support, “I’m a witch. Mrs. Lankins told me.”

Dumbledore looked down at the papers in front of him, before looking back at me, his eyes kinder than ever, “Yes, but you are also half fire elemental,” He gave me a weak smile, “and a princess, as your mother was a queen.”

I frowned, a slight pang running through my head. A memory, something that I knew I had said, coming back to me,

“My mother did the same thing, you know. He tortured her, murdered her race, and she fell in-love with him. She thought that if she gave him the most precious thing she possessed, her light, her fire. That he would see that she truly loved him. He broke her! He tortured her and assaulted her until she just couldn’t take it anymore. He drove her insane!”

My eyes widened, “Oh my God.” I said softly to myself. Barely noticing Dumbledore flick his wand. A chair appearing behind me, just in time for me to fall into it, “My mother…”

My head was pounding now as I struggled to grasp onto another memory. One that was just eluding me. I placed my face back in my hands. My mother…

“Hestia was a great woman.” Spoke Dumbledore gently, “I’m sure you loved her very much.”

Instinctively I nodded my head, looking up at him slightly, “I did. I remember that now, I did love her.” I looked away from him, my eyes glazing over, “I just don’t remember her.” I swallowed hard, blinking away my tears, before turning back to look at Dumbledore, determinedly, “I did it too didn’t I?”

He frowned, tilting his head, “Did what?”

I bit my lip, looking at my lap, “I sold myself to him too.” I looked up, waving my hand flippantly, “To whoever my father was, is.”

“Maria,” Began Dumbledore consolingly, leaning towards me across the desk, “your father is Lord Voldemort.”

Shock ran through me, and I jumped in my seat. The evil wizard. The one who baby Harry Potter had defeated, but recently had risen again. He was my father? My mind flashed back to one of my more recent memories,

“Free, Becky? Have you learned nothing? Do you still not know who you are? You will never be free of me, Becky. I have insured this!”

“What did I ever do to you?”

“What did you do? You, Becky? Nothing. You have done nothing, but to have the misfortune, as you would call it, of fate intertwining your life with mine.”

It made sense. It all made sense. The beast inside me calmed, though I could still feel it fighting me, it wanted control.

“When you were seventeen, you sold, what is in essence, your soul to him. In effort to save the lives Sirius Black and his friends.” I heard Dumbledore say, but he sounded miles from me.

Yeah, selling myself to save Sirius, sounded like something I would do.

“Binding your heritage and abilities to Voldemort, as well as your life. A horrible, and terribly brave, sacrifice. ”

I could feel myself nod, my sight going in and out of focus.

“Such a bond would have, and has, bound you to him, and him to you. While he lives, you cannot die. Or rather, rest, as what remains of your essence would return to him upon your demise. You would become his slave for the entirety of his life.”

My breath hitched, my eyes coming back into focus, meeting his gaze. Sirius…

“Which brings me to my question, Maria.” Dumbledore paused, I already knew what he was going to ask, “Did you marry Sirius Black?”

I stood up abruptly, horrified. I nodded slowly. Our marriage had condemned him to the same fate as mine. Upon his death, his essence had come to my side, bound to me until my death. But as I was already bound to someone else…

Dumbledore, who had been speaking, finished my thought for me, “Then Sirius Black is bound to both you and Voldemort, as long as you both are alive. Never to rest. Never to have peace. Only to flit back and forth between you two.” I heard him pause, as if unwilling to finish. I turned to look at him. I can’t bear to think it, let alone say it, “And as Voldemort is the rightful owner of both your souls…” Dumbledore paused again, adding in a whisper, “He has the capability to torture Sirius, even in his present form, while Sirius is in his presence.”

I couldn’t breathe. So, every moment that Sirius is not at my side, he is getting tortured by Voldemort?

“I’m glad I died.”

Sirius’ words replayed through my head.

He is probably suffering, in unbelievable ways, and he’s is still…

“I’m glad I died so I could be with you.”

He’s still glad he died, because he wanted…he wanted…

I blinked hard, collapsing in my chair. My heart catching in my throat as I looked away from Dumbledore.

This was all my fault. Sirius’ pain…if he hadn’t married me…

I shut my eyes tightly.

I could have overpowered him easily, as Maria Le Fay. With my skills as a witch, my fire, he wouldn’t have stood a chance. I could have, and should have, prevented this. He shouldn’t have to suffer because of me.

I felt a hand reach out and clasp my own, “From all that I have seen, I’m sure Sirius wouldn’t have wanted it any other way. He wouldn’t want to be at peace while you still suffered.”

I opened my teary eyes to meet Dumbledore’s gaze, he was crying as well. I swallowed, “How do you know all this? About me and Sirius?”

Dumbledore let go of my hand and leaned back into his chair. Resting his hands, one of them dead and withered looking, onto the desk, “I’ve been looking into your life, Maria. I believe you are the key to helping Harry bring down Voldemort.” He pushed the black box on his desk towards me, allowing me to look inside, “Sirius kept a box of all the things he held most dear to him. One of those things, was a collections of memories you and he shared together.”

I barely heard him, my hands moving of their own accord, as I reached into the box and pulled out a photograph. It was moving. I saw that it featured myself, Sirius, and a few other people I recognized, but did not remember, one of them looked a lot like Harry. I set the photo back down.

“How do I free Sirius?” I asked firmly, staring hard at Dumbledore, whose gaze became apologetic.

“Other than both yours and Voldemort’s deaths?” He shook his head, “There is no other way.”

I clenched my jaw. Looking away from him, I could feel that creature rising inside me again, it was furious, “Maybe if I remembered more,” I said angrily, more mad at myself than Dumbledore, “maybe then…” I looked up, questioning, “Do we even know what Voldemort did to me?” I stood up, opening my arms wide, “Why am I like this?” I practically shouted.

Dumbledore surveyed me, apologetically, “I don’t know.” He replied honestly, “Obviously, Voldemort tampered with your memory…”

I nodded, rolling my eyes. I knew that already.

“But, what remains unseen, is how he kept you in your present state…”

I frowned, lowering my hands, “But I’m not. You said I married Sirius when I was seventeen, right?” Dumbledore nodded, “I’m only sixteen.” I said slowly, watching this information roll across his face.

He looked down, pulling my dream letter closer to him, “Then I have been searching in all the wrong places,” Dumbledore looked up, speaking before I could reply, “You are to remain here, Maria, as Becky Sinclair. You are to go to all your classes and socialize with the other students. In the meantime, I will continue to look for information on what has been done to you.” He paused for breath, grasping mine and Sirius wedding rings, and handing them to me. They looked so small in my palm, “You will meet with me once a week, and I will attempt to help you remember the rest of your memories.”

I nodded, not taking my eyes off the rings.

“But first,” Began Dumbledore, “I believe you still needed to be sorted.”

I looked up.